


Scarification

by butyoumight (orphan_account)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bloodplay, Bondage, M/M, Roleplay Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-10
Updated: 2007-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/butyoumight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Gerard shifted again, repeating the gentle action to Frank's other ear, voice very quickly approaching a feral growl. "I need to hear you say it, Frank. I need to know that you understand, that you're willing to give yourself up to me."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarification

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



> For Valentine's Day 2007. We have a strange relationship.

Frank's eyes were closed, but he could feel the surprisingly strong embrace of silk circling his left wrist, the insistent tug as his arm was drawn up, tied loosely to the corner post of the bed.

The four-poster bed was Gerard's idea, and seeing as the frontman was spending more and more nights at Frank's apartment, instead of in his parents' basement, his opinion mattered to Frank.

He opened his eyes, craning his neck to look up as Gerard repeated the process on his right wrist. He allowed himself just a moment to wonder why Gerard was making the knots so loose before the frontman turned, retrieving another of the black silk scarves from Frank's bare chest and moving down to tie Frank's left ankle firmly.

Now his mind wandered off in a different direction, questioning the fact that he was still covered in a semi-modest manner, plaid boxers typically low on his hips, but otherwise still firmly in place.

He opened his mouth to question Gerard, but a firm hush and a stern look silenced him immediately. Gerard retrieved the fourth and penultimate scarf, and loosely lashed Frank's right ankle to the fourth post.

With a devilish smirk in place, he circled the bed like a shark, tightening each scarf until Frank was stretched properly, muscles just starting to tingle as he was pulled firmly in all directions, cursing his small stature that made it all too easy to completely incapacitate him. He couldn't even lift his hips from the bed properly. Not without chafing his wrists and ankles, anyway.

Frank tried tugging on each limb, searching for slack or leeway that was completely non-existent. He wasn't sure what Gerard was up too, tonight, but he trusted the frontman. Gerard wouldn't really hurt him, not irreversibly anyway.

Gerard moved back to the bed, straddling Frank's hips and pressing their chests together. Gerard was still fully clothed, his black button-down shirt rough against Frank's hypersensitive skin. Hips clad in worn black denim moved against Frank's gently, and the tiny guitarist, in the midst of questioning his still-present boxers was cut off by a strangled moan.

Gerard lifted the fifth scarf from Frank's chest, letting one loose end tickle at gently tan skin for a moment before he slowly and purposefully tied a knot right in the center of the scarf. The spark in Gerard's eyes made every hair on Frank's body stand up with a prickle of nerves.

He was in for it tonight, to be sure.

Gerard leaned over him, taking a moment to breathe in Frank's scent, brush their noses together, and press an impossibly soft kiss to his lips. Frank gulped, another chill running over his bared skin.

Gerard shifted, his tongue tracing the edge of Frank's ear before he whispered softly against his temple. "Do you trust me?"

Frank shuddered slightly, blinking, and nodded slowly, turning his head to catch Gerard's eyes. Gerard shifted again, repeating the gentle action to Frank's other ear, voice very quickly approaching a feral growl. "I need to hear you say it, Frank. I need to know that you understand, that you're willing to give yourself up to me."

Now Gerard pulled back, warm golden eyes catching forest-flecked hazel and holding Frank hostage in the electric tension between them. "Tell me if you trust me, if you trust me to do what I want, what ever I want. If you don't, I'll let you up now."

Frank struggled to be sensible, and actually think things through for once. If Gerard was being this damn serious, he blatantly had something far more... perhaps dangerous, up his sleeve, tonight. He almost hesitated, wanting a few questions answered, but then Gerard shifted, warm denim and worn flannel making deliciously teasing friction that drew a strangled moan from somewhere low in his chest. Deep inside, Frank knew that Gerard wasn't cheating, he'd simply needed to shift, but from where Frank was standing (lying), chest now heaving with tension-wracked breath, it sure seemed like an underhanded move.

Words were spilling from Frank's lips before he realized what he might be getting himself into. "I do trust you, I know you won't hurt me, I believe you'll take care of me. Do whatever you want, I know you won't do anything I can't handle. I know you won't do anything un-safe."

Gerard's lips split into a frightening smile. Frank's mind took off on a tangent, as the very tips of Gerard's canines looked like fangs. Another shudder ran down his spine as Gerard twined the scarf between his fingers for a moment before pressing the knot to Frank's lips.

"Open. Can't have you waking the neighbors."

Frank's eyes grew wide, dilating slightly at the quiet change in Gerard's voice, that quiet echo of growling dominance coming to the fore, making Gerard's usually breathy words harsh and unforgiving.

It was too late to back out now, though. He'd offered himself up to Gerard on a platinum platter, given his permission to go as far as Gerard wanted, so he opened his mouth, letting Gerard tie the scarf tight behind Frank's head, just barely cutting into the corners of his mouth. He bit down on the silk, the sort of gritty texture making a funny noise inside his head.

Gerard slithered off Frank's prone form, and Frank reflexively tugged on his bonds again, hands flexing as he panted softly through his nose with trepidation.

Gerard paused at the foot of the bed, that devilish smirk still in place as he reached down to palm Frank gently through his boxers, drawing a soft whine from Frank's throat. Gerard nodded approvingly, patting Frank's stomach gently, speaking softly with an edge that made Frank's stomach clench beneath his cool hand. "Be good."

As if he had any choice.

Gerard turned then, as if Frank were completely forgotten, and walked out the bedroom door, closing it quietly behind him.

Frank whined again at this, eyes darting quickly around the room as if the four walls were holding the secrets to Gerard's shadowed agenda. He craned his neck, trying to catch sight of the glowing red letters on his nightstand, but it was futile. His arm, stretched and held firmly above his head, blocked the clock from his line of sight, and trying to lift his head to see over his arm made his entire body tremble with surprising tension.

He shifted uncomfortably, the tingle in his arms and legs growing swiftly to a slight burn, muscle tensing and loosening with no visible effect except to ripple under tattooed and tanned skin. His breath was erratic, sometimes deep and slow, sometimes rising to a rapid and nervous pace, almost on the edge of hyperventilation.

He closed his eyes, trying to lose himself in the dim reddish-black behind his eyelids. He forced himself to take purposeful breaths with a three count between inhale, exhale, inhale. He tried really hard not to let his mind run away with him, wondering where Gerard was, what Gerard was doing, and whether he would be able to walk tomorrow.

Later, he would wonder how Gerard had managed to open the door without being heard. Perhaps Frank had simply been too lost in his own mind, and he didn't realize he was no longer alone (twenty minutes after he'd been left to marinate in his own uncontrollable thoughts) until he felt an unfamiliar ice-cold touch to his cheek.

His eyes flew open to see Gerard with a very calm, almost clinical look on his face. Frank's jaw tightened on the scarf between his teeth as he strained to look down at his own cheek.

Gerard allowed the tiniest smirk to raise the corner of his mouth as he lifted his hand from its position near Frank's cheek. Frank gulped, eyes going painfully wide at the sight of a medical scalpel in Gerard's newly leather-gloved hand. Gerard's eyes had a frightening fire in them as he moved the scalpel to mirror it's flat press to Frank's other cheek, still surprisingly cold. Well, that explained the gloves, at any rate.

His head just twitched in the slightest shake of fearful defiance. No, he didn't particularly want _this_. Gerard's smirk grew more purposeful, his voice fell heavily around the room like a suffocating snowfall, honey laced with arsenic.

"No sudden movements, Frank. This is terribly sharp, we wouldn't want any accidental cuts on our pretty face, now, would we?"

Frank's careful forced regulation of his breath flew out the window as he found himself on the knife-edge (so to speak) of hyperventilation again. Gerard's chuckle, usually breathy and soft, was cold as the blade and twice as unyielding, and Frank had no coherent response, no response at all except a quiet whimper of terror.

Gerard moved the blade away from Frank's skin, instead caressing his cheek with the back of leather-clad fingers. Frank took this opportunity to try shaking his head again, begging with his eyes. He wasn't prepared for this.

Gerard, with deft artist's fingers, turned the scalpel around, pressing the blunt back against Frank's temple threateningly. Frank whimpered again, teeth grinding slightly on the scarf.

"Now, Frank. Don't be that way, darling boy. You trust me, you said so yourself." The scalpel slid, tracing Frank's jawline, pausing for a moment to press flat against his pulse, rapidly thrumming, nearly vibrating beneath the blade. "I'll take care of you, when I'm done." The scalpel moved further, tracing from the side of Frank's neck down to the hollow of his throat. Gerard expertly tilted the blade, the ultra-sharp tip of the blade just barely puncturing the delicate skin over the hollow of Frank's throat. A tiny bead of blood appeared, shining in the dark depths of Gerard's eyes. His voice fell to sultry seduction, a low purr that went straight to Frank's cock. "This will be the greatest Valentine you will ever receive, Frank."

The blade tilted again, the blunt edge trailing down the center of Frank's chest, pausing just over the center of his breast bone to repeat the tiny pricking action, then further, drawing another tiny bead of blood just over Frank's xiphoid.

Frank whimpered again, each muscle in his body going tense, rippling, skin beading with cold sweat.

Gerard's voice fell to that cold, clinical tone again, the voice that brought to mind mask-faced doctors and antiseptic-white hospital rooms. "First things first." He lifted the scalpel from Frank's skin, moving it about in a borderline threatening way as he moved down. Frank closed his eyes, whimpering again as Gerard let the blade hover over Frank's damnable erection. He smirked in a way very few doctors ever would, then moved the blade off to the side, pressing the flat of the blade against the gentle dip where Frank's leg met his torso. "I do hope you aren't partial to these undergarments."

He made a quick, but careful cut, working the blade into the weave of the flannel. Once the threads were breached, they tore easily along the seam, laying a thin strip of Frank's skin bare. Gerard circled the bed, repeating the action on the other side.

As he carefully continued to make ribbons of the boxers, removing them from Frank, he turned to look at Frank's face. Eyes screwed shut, forehead scrunched up, jaw clenched tight and arms trembling, he was an image of pained beauty that took Gerard's breath away.

Gerard palmed his proud blade as he moved onto the bed, straddling Frank, knees pressing into his hips. "Open your eyes, little Frankie." Frank took a shaky breath before forcing himself to oblige. He was past the point of no return, any quiet spirit he might have held giving up the ghost. He met Gerard's eyes, watched the frontman press the still cool blade to his own lips. He spoke beneath the blade in a quiet voice that made Frank question Gerard's sanity, not for the first time. "I want to see your pain."

Frank gulped, eyelids fluttering in fear, but he couldn't let them close properly, not with that demonic look in Gerard's eyes catching and holding him, threatening him.

Gerard leaned in, brushing their noses together. "You said you trusted me." He kissed the very tip of Frank's nose, then settled back a bit, wagging the scalpel between his forefinger and thumb, like a silent pendulum, a thoughtful threat.

His voice took on that seductive tone again, and never before had Frank so cursed the versatility of the older man's voice. "Happy Valentines Day, little Frankie."

He moved in then, pressing the blade against Frank's skin, just hard enough to cut (which, with the medical grade scalpel, wasn't so hard at all), drawing like with a pencil or a fine-tipped paintbrush. Only, instead of any sort of paper or canvas, he was using the pristine perfection of Frank's skin, and the canvas provided it's own ink in a perfect shade of red that no paints company could reproduce.

Frank cried out from behind the soft gag as a tiny line of blood welled in the wake of the blade. It didn't so much hurt as simply claw at his mind with sheer incomprehensible fact. Gerard was slicing him open with a scalpel, like Frank was a fucking arts and crafts project, or a medical student's thesis gone horribly wrong.

The blade moved, mirroring its first cut almost perfectly. A fucking heart, like a kindergartner's construction paper card for his parents. Gerard shifted the blade easily, as if he were somehow practiced to the point of second nature in slicing open human skin just barely to the point of bleeding. He was embellishing the edge of the heart, almost lacy curlicues, and now it was starting to hurt. Frank shook his head some more, tears pulled forcibly from his eyes, a low whining moan born of little more than pain near constant in the back of his throat.

Gerard chuckled coldly again, smiling properly now, lips just parted, the sharp of Gerard's teeth taking on the appearance of vampiric fangs once more. "You're so beautiful, Frankie." He considered the heart carved into Frank's chest. "So beautiful." He mused, considering, absentmindedly licking the clinging traces of Frank's blood from the blade. "What do you think, Frankie?" Gerard waggled the scalpel again. "How's that? You think it's good enough?"

Frank gulped, his entire body trembling beneath Gerard as he forced himself to nod, once, twice, blinking tears out of his eyes and fighting to regulate his breath once more.

Gerard smirked, and Frank's blood ran cold. "No, I didn't think so either... But what to do, what to do." Gerard lowered the scalpel once more, the blunt edge tracing gently across Frank's skin. "Wouldn't want to deface any of these lovely tattoos, would we?" Frank shook his head on reflex, and Gerard moved his free hand to pat Frank's cheek gently. "Oh, no." He shifted, making a simple cut right between Frank's collarbones. Frank whimpered again.

He embellished this line for a moment before making a single sweeping slice, following the edge of his collarbone. He repeated the mark on Frank's other side, smiling proudly as he carefully made simple cuts that replicated feathers. Frank's whimpers gave way to pained moans, and he shuddered as Gerard actually laughed.

His voice was a mere whisper now, awed with his own work in the most perfect medium. "You're so beautiful, Frank." He licked the blood off the scalpel again, reaching to set it down on the bedside table. "So fucking gorgeous. Right down to blood, bone, sinew."

The frontman bent, no longer able to restrain himself, and licked along one of the cuts, gathering blood and cleaning skin. Frank would have arched if he could get his body off the bed. He could, however, scream properly behind the scarf. The cuts themselves hadn't hurt so much, but the irritation of Gerard's needy tongue was enough to send sparklers of shooting pain through every inch of Frank's taught skin. He managed to writhe a bit beneath Gerard as the older man claimed every drop of spilled blood as his own, Frank's chest heaving beneath his mouth making him smile.

He pulled back, sitting up, lips stained red with Frank's blood. Frank panted through his nose, whimpering softly, tears spilling down his temples to wet the pillow beneath his head. Gerard smiled, licking his lips lewdly. "You taste good, too." He shifted a bit, crawling backwards down Frank's prone body. "All over, I'm sure."

Frank gulped, eyes going wide as Gerard settled himself between Frank's spread legs, trailing leather-clad fingertips down the sides of his stomach. He smiled as muscle rippled beneath skin, breathing softly over Frank's cock, which was hard despite himself. Gerard nodded proudly, dipping his head to trail his tongue along the underside of Frank's cock.

Frank moaned, eyelids finally fluttering shut as he trailed and failed to move his hips in askance.

Gerard wasted no more time. Frank had done very well, tonight, and the frontman was pleased. He closed his mouth over Frank's cock proper, wrapping one gloved hand around the very base and squeezing gently, giving him a few soft strokes as his cheeks hollowed, light suction making Frank tremble.

Gerard's free hand found the dip at Frank's hip again, pressing down purposefully, drawing another low whine out of Frank's throat.

Gerard pulled his mouth off for long enough to whisper heatedly over newly damp skin. "Come for me, Frank. Don't hold back." Then the suction was back, coupled with slightest dragging of teeth, a squeeze at the base of his cock.

Frank lost it, hips not quite bucking as simply twitching as he came, wailing wordlessly behind the makeshift gag. He writhed slightly in his bonds as Gerard pulled away swallowing. Backing away from the bed, Gerard tore one of his gloves off, unbuckling his belt and lowering the zipper, thrusting his hand inside his own jeans to grip himself roughly, stroking hard, head falling back to moan at the ceiling. The overwhelming taste of _Frank_ was still heavy in his mouth, making him frenzied. He tilted his head down, forcing his eyes open, and the sight of Frank, limp and still helpless, fresh blood gleaming from the heart and wings on his chest, was enough to bring Gerard off right then and there.

There was a quiet moment of no more than heavy breathing from both parties. Gerard took the time to right his jeans, re-buckle his belt, and smile warmly at Frank (though the guitarist wasn't paying attention) before walking out the room without another word.

Frank was alone for another five minutes (though he didn't know, could have been two seconds or three days, for all he knew), and when Gerard returned, he was carrying a small white plastic case, a warm wash rag, and a glass of water. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, caressing Frank's cheek with his once more bared hands, this time warm and soft scented from Gerard's frantic hand scrubbing. No use in getting Frank infected, after all.

He opened the case, pulling out a spool of gauze, another of medical tape, and a small tube of antibiotic ointment. Frank's breath went slow and shallow again as Gerard's violent domination faded away in favor of gentle hands and soft words of praise that Frank couldn't entirely piece together with any coherence.

Gerard carefully wiped the cuts clean of blood with the wash rag before spreading the antibiotic over the entire sliced area. With careful placement of gauze and tape, he covered the wounds with the care of a professional.

That done, he set the medical supplies aside and untied Frank's ankles from the bed, pressing a soft kiss to chafed skin before moving up and repeating the action on his wrists, these kisses a bit more lingering.

The gag came next, tossed carelessly to the floor. Gerard pressed another gentle, lingering kiss to Frank's chapped lips, retrieving the glass of water and looping one arm around Frank's back, helping the smaller man sit up. He threaded his fingers in the soft hair at the base of Frank's neck as he tilted the glass to his lips.

Frank drank half the glass in three slow gulps, sighing softly as Gerard lowered the glass again. His jaw worked uselessly for a moment before he managed to get a single word through his strained vocal chords.

"Why?"

Gerard blushed. "I'm sorry."

Frank blinked, shaking his head slightly. He leaned forward for the glass, taking another sip with Gerard's help before speaking again. "Don't apologize."

Gerard's voice was low, thrumming deep with untapped devotion and love. "I just... want you to always remember that you're mine."

Frank managed to smile weakly, and Gerard helped him to drink the last of the water before helping Frank lie down again, curling up beside him, one arm resting around his waist possessively, comfortingly. Frank sighed, glancing at the clock (it was only 7) before closing his eyes, completely spent.

He murmured near silently as he slipped towards gentle sleep. "Looks like everyone's gonna know now."

Gerard pressed his lips to Frank's temple, whispering against his skin. "You think so?"

"Who else has that kind of skill?"


End file.
